


Space Force: A Comedy in Five Acts

by keire_ke



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mash-up, Multi, Space Force (netflix) - Freeform, gratuituous Cats references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25655050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keire_ke/pseuds/keire_ke
Summary: Life of the first Chief of Space Operations in the United Space Force, General Steve Rogers, is not easy, by any measure.(this fic is a mash-up of MCU and Space Force, the Netflix show)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Space Force: A Comedy in Five Acts

**Author's Note:**

> I have a complicated relationship with the show Space Force. I very much enjoyed the serious parts of it, they tended to be genuine and sweet, but the comedy bits weren't that funny, and the satire didn't quite work. Of course, I decided to attempt a Stucky AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve takes a break from his duties at Space Force to visit Peggy in prison.

"I'm seeing someone," Peggy says.

Steve doesn't have the time to think before his mouth opens and "Peggy, you're in prison" comes out.

She raises a brow and flicks an invisible speck of dust off the collar of her orange uniform. "I noticed, thank you." The jumpsuit is weirdly fetching in the cold light. It brings out the grey streaks in her hair. Steve kind of wishes he could draw her, unfortunately, he is out of orange crayons at present.

"How can—"

"Her name is Angie, Angela Martinelli. She's in here for fraud."

Steve takes a moment to come to terms with this. "That's great," he says cautiously. "What's she like?"

"Very feisty. She threw the cake you brought me the last time at a guard who was harassing another inmate."

"I'm happy to hear it's been put to good use," Steve says, marvelling at the shape of the universe and the place the cakes occupy within it.

"Some of it got into the guard's mouth, and she seemed okay with it. Angie has good aim."

"Angie sounds great."

"She's been in a couple of Broadway plays. We've actually seen her, you remember, back in New York? That play with people dressed up as singing cats, based on T.S. Elliot's poems? Never expected to cross paths with her again."

"I can't say I recall meeting a Broadway actress."

"It is a very famous play, you know. I think it's still running."

"It was revived on Broadway in 2015, but I don't think it's currently on."

"Oh, so you do remember!"

"I remember the show, not necessarily the actors. They all wore cat make-up."

"She played one of the cats."

"There's nothing but cats in the show, Peggy."

"She played one of the supporting roles, she apparently sang the prelude to the main song?"

"Oh, Sillabub?"

"No, it's  _ Memory _ , I think. Angie still remembers the dances. It's so peculiar to think we've met, however distantly, all those years ago, and now we're both here."

Steve watches her intently, but Peggy's staring beyond him with a dreamy smile on her face. It's a touch too dreamy to suggest the prison cohabitation following attending a show in the nineties is the serendipity that brought it forth.

"You're the one who put her here, weren't you?" he says at last, which shakes her out of the daydream.

"Not me  _ personally _ , you know that I wasn't involved with the petty offences."

"This is a high-security prison, and she's in for fraud," Steve says. It comes out flatter than he intended, possibly with a touch of quotation marks. SHIELD was not in the business of handling fraud, no matter how major. Also there is the distinctly homosexual tinge to the affair, which he isn't going to mention, even though it strikes him as a new development, where Peggy is concerned.

"Granted, but even so, I was the director. I was hardly out on the street going after the spying actresses."

Spying actresses. "How big of a fraud?"

"Oh, details went over my head, she mentioned BitCoin, and a frankly preposterous number of zeroes."

"What about the other thing?"

"The spying? That was mainly incidental, though it is what got her caught. SHIELD was after this oligarch she was scamming at the time, and she let slip a critical detail that let him escape and foil our efforts."

Steve leans back as much as the cord of the phone would allow. "I don't know what to do with this information."

Peggy straightens and looks at him seriously. Steve reflexively mirrors her pose, back straight, one hand resting on the table, the other holding the phone handle to the ear. "I think we should consider an open marriage," she says.

Steve raises a brow. "By the sound of it's already open."

"Do let's be honest, Steve." She leans forward, her smile soft and earnest. "I'm not getting out of here for the next forty years, if I'm lucky, and I don't want to spend it alone."

"I visit."

"Once every two weeks."

"It is a bit of a drive."

Peggy waves her hand. "See, that's exactly it. You have your Space Force, I have my prison book club, we're both busy people. We need to find happiness where we are."

Steve sighs. She's not wrong, not really, but, well. It's hard to let go of something that's been a constant… well, something that definitely has been in existence for sixty years. They can discuss the ontological status of their union in two weeks, it will still be there. Probably. "How is that book club going?" he asks instead.

"Oh, do not let me get started, the selection in the library is atrocious. I have been forced to re-read  _ Twilight _ ."

"That sounds cruel and unusual."

"Tell me about it," Peggy says, scowling. She never cared for romance. "There are more movies in the library than there are books, which should be a federal offence."

"Can you check movies out?"

Peggy purses her lips and tilts her head. "This is prison, Steve. We have communal movie nights, and let me tell you: the selection process voting system is also an abomination, where guards are allowed to weigh in."

"Ah."

"They made one critical mistake though: I finally watched  _ Shawshank Redemption _ , despite my loathing of Stephen King, and it proved illuminating."

"Do not tell me you'll be tunneling out of here, Peggy—"

She waves her hand. "No, no. I started a letter campaign. We're already achieving results: the warden is meeting with us tomorrow."

"Meeting with you to personally send you into solitary, or meeting with you to concede to your demands?"

"That's the interesting thing about prison," she says brightly. "You never know." A lock of her hair curls around her cheek, and she brushes it aside. "But tell me how are things at your end? I can tell something good happened to you, did we beat China to the moon?"

Steve sighs. "Where to start."

"Typically with a launch."

"It was delayed again."

"Oh no, what happened?"

"A flock of wild pigeons roosted in the support beams, Barton refused to just clear them out, because apparently they are endangered and getting rid of them would be a felony."

"Wouldn't want you to commit a felony now, would we," Peggy tells him, grinning through the inch-thick glass separating the inmates of the federal prison from their visitors.

"Well, this marriage is now up to two felons, which is way over the national average. It might be best not to make it three."

"You," Peggy says, cocking her head, "need to get laid."

Steve snorts. "That's what Bucky tells me, too."

Peggy stills. Steve realizes what he said, and a river of cold sweat cascades down his back, as he watches her fingers curl around the phone tight enough that he worries the plastic might crack. "Bucky?"

"Yeah."

"Bucky is here?" Peggy hisses into the phone, one hand coming up to press against the glass between them.

"He's… working on the project."

Peggy opens her mouth, but this is prison and they are speaking through a cable and god knows what's in that cable; Steve's got the gizmos and whatnot that's supposed to be interfering with recording or transmitting hardware, plus the authority of the stars on his shoulders, but who can tell how good the guard's hearing is.

Instead of talking they look at one another for a beat, then Peggy says, in a perfectly even tone of voice, "You have a  _ Russian _ working for the Space Force branch of the United States Army?"

Steve scowls. "Now you're not being fair. You know there are several Russian working on the project. POTUS insisted."

"But this Russian?"

"He's not Russian."

"He's been Russian for a good long while!"

"He's been  _ American _ for a good long while after that," Steve says, making the words as pointed as possible.

Peggy glares. "Well, if they find me dead in my cell tomorrow, you'll know why."

"This is a high-security prison."

"Steve, honestly. This is the—Russian mob we're talking about. I have no doubt the  _ Russian mob _ will have no problem getting into a high-security prison."

"He's not going to do that."

"Steve."

"Peggy." He meets her gaze evenly. "He's been here a while. I'm sure if he was going to kill you, he wouldn't have waited for the formality of sentencing. He works construction now."

Peggy stares at him for the longest moment, with the look he knows well from their many fights, like she can't quite believe he means the words coming out of his mouth, then, unexpectedly, she grins. "Well, looks like there's three felons in this marriage after all."

Steve frowns. "I'm not committing any felonies."

"No, of course not." Peggy is rolling her eyes, though he can hear the laughter in her voice. Before he can ask, however, the guard lets out a discreet cough, which means the visit is over. "It was good to see you, Steve. I'll see if I can get Angie to join us in two weeks, you two should meet."

"Take care of yourself, Peggy."

"Thank you for the cake, I appreciate the effort! I hope to taste it the next time around," she says, and puts the receiver down just as the guard comes over.

Steve nods at Peggy, who mouths "good luck" over her shoulder as the guard pats her down, just in case Steve manages to smuggle contraband through the glass and the concrete. She finds none, so she settles on placing handcuffs on Peggy's wrists. 

Peggy does not look back as she is led away, but then she never does.

Steve gets up from the chair with a sigh, and stretches. He lets the chatter of the room fill his ears, the voices of the spouses here to visit their wives and significant others, and walks out the way he came, out into the courtyard and into the helicopter.

"Did she like the cake?" Wilson asks, hopping into the pilot's chair.

"It got thrown at a guard in defence of another inmate."

"Seriously?" Wilson turns in his chair, staring at Steve, as the nose of the helicopter lifts towards the wall of the prison, looming ahead. "How does that always happen!?"

"Wilson!"


End file.
